Ruin

Twenty-one

The next day, I can't face Alex. I spend my morning alone. Afraid that he'll hear my footsteps and know I'm avoiding him, I also spend my morning sitting quietly. I'm thankful that he called Brandon, but at the same time he's hardly any better than anyone else I've met so far. No one has really been completely honest with me. The only exception being Maria, but she hasn't seen me enough to have any real chance to hide things from me.

I don't know what to do with myself, but some alone time is needed. Maybe some time spent on my own, away from others to sort my own thoughts out. There are things that I need to do, I need to find out how I fit in here, if I'm going to fit in at all.

But this alone time only lasts so long before I'm bored again. Then I remember why I needed to sit and talk with Alex on the stairs. It's lonely and boring in Henri's house. Even though he lives here and it bears all the markings of being used, there is still something empty about his apartment. It's the same way Brandon's was empty, the only difference is that this apartment bears signs of Henri's life lived here over a long period of time.

I look over his book shelf, poking at some of the book spines. None of the books are ones I recognize. Most of them seem to be how-to books on repairs and building. All of them are covered in thick layers of dust. It's as if Henri lives here, but doesn't really live here. He spends most of his day gone, and even when he comes home, he is only here long enough to eat and then go to sleep.

I sigh and stand up and take another look around. Henri is missing in this space. Everything that is around is simply the product of whatever he's working on, but none of it offers any deeper clues about the man. He doesn't offer any clues about himself either, so perhaps that's of his own design. Maybe there's some other place where he really resides and this is just the distraction.

It's clear that I won't discover anything in this apartment, and I still don't think I want to talk to Alex. Not yet anyway. So I make plans. I decide that I need to explore. It sounds good in my head until I'm standing in front of the door with my hand on the knob, certain that Alex will hear it open and possibly expect me.

The apartment walls feel too close. The room is stuffy. I need to get out whether Alex hears or not. So with one large breath, I open the door. It does give a small squeak that sounds loud to my ears because of the blood rushing through them. I stand on the threshold for a moment, listening for movement at the bottom of the stairs. When I don't hear anything, I step out and listen again. The hallway seems even quieter than normal. My ears aren't good enough to hear Alex's breath from downstairs, but it does seem a little too quiet. I twine my fingers together and think about it for a moment before deciding to just continue on across the hall to the apartment opposite Henri's. Most likely, Alex is at the bottom of the stairs and the second I go check, he'll catch me. It's hard to turn away from him. Maybe it's just some strange Neutral politeness on my part, or maybe that's just the effect he has on me.

I decide to start with the door furthest away from Henri's apartment and away from the stairs. With one last glance towards the stairs, I turn the old knob and push the door open with my shoulder. It gives without a squeak, but it isn't easy. This door hasn't been opened in a very long time.

The sight I see when I step in surprises me. There is still furniture inside it. Not much, but more than I'd expect. There's an old couch in the middle of the room. Near the kitchen, there's a small table with three chairs around it. Two of the chairs are knocked over. I stare at them and give a small shudder. Something happened here. I'm not sure what gives me that impression at first. Two knocked over chairs seems odd. But a third chair sits up and pushed back from the table. It's askew, as if shoved back from the table quickly. Still, that person had time to get up without knocking that chair over.

The air is heavy with dust. It burns down my throat as I swallow carefully, standing on the edge of the room deciding whether I want to go in further. The grimy windows filter what bits of light pass through washing the room is stained shadows and a slightly yellow light.

I stay by the door at first, scared to step in and have it close behind me. For a brief moment I contemplate going downstairs to find Alex and asking him if he knows about this room, but I don't. I'm far too reliant on the people around me already, and they've all lied to me or not told me the truth enough times for me to realize that I'm the only one who can find these answers.

I take a step in and close the door myself. Not all the way, but just shut it and leave it ajar like I did the last time. The apartment is the same layout as Henri's, just mirrored, and so I step over to the smaller bedroom first.

This door sticks in the doorjamb too. I give it a shove and trip in, nearly dropping my glasses. My hand is still on the door knob, so I pull myself back on that and look up.

Just like the last room, there are still things in here, but not many. The first thing I notice is the stained mattress off in the side of the room. It's only a mattress, and something about it makes me uncomfortable. There are no blankets around it or sheets on it. Next to it there is a small toy truck-- the only toy in the entire room.

There's a small pile of clothes in the corner of the room, and one small red shirt sticks out on the edge of the pile, halfway lying on the ground. Crinkled, but spread out enough that I can see how tiny it is and I gasp. I don't know whose room it is, but I can guess it was a little boy's room once.

Inhaling the stale air proves to be a huge mistake. My eyes start to water, and I give a cough. I fight it, but I know I need out now. This is someone's past. Something bad happened, and I shouldn't be here.

I step out and shut the door to the child's room quietly. The door of the next room catches my eye. It would be easy to take a peek. My eyes jump down to the floor in front of the door and I catch the edge of a dark stain in the floorboards. That is enough for me.

The old white paint of the hall, cracking and chipping, is a refreshing sight after the haunted apartment. I take a deep breath of the fresher air and then turn around to shut the door. Something tells me that no one can know that I was here. I shouldn't even ask Alex about it.

"What are you doing?"

The voice is deep and familiar. I turn around quickly. Jimmy stands in the hall with his fists at his sides. His smooth face with its natural shadow smile is crumpled in anger.

I can still feel the dust on me as I stand there in front of him unsure what to say to him. This place means something to him. He knows something about it. "What is it?" I ask him, my voice scratchy from the need to cough. "What happened there?"

Jimmy looks down and his hair falls over his eyes. I bite my lip, suddenly able to imagine him as the boy he must have been once. Did he play with a toy truck? Did he wear a small red shirt?

Jimmy still can't look at me. He doesn't answer either of my questions. "Go home and stay there."

There is a warning in his voice that is sharper than if he had come at me and just hit me. My legs become weak, and I hurry past him back to Henri's apartment when what I really want to do is go outside and stand in the sunshine to let the traces of darkness evaporate from my vision.

Inside the apartment, I lean on the heavy door and listen for Jimmy's footsteps, but I don't hear them. The hall sounds completely quiet, and I'm too scared to open the door again.

I step away from the door and further into Henri's house, glancing back at the door as if Jimmy might change his mind and follow me. There would be nothing I could do. The door doesn't even lock, and I doubt a lock would keep him back if he really wanted in. The worst thing Henri would have to deal with would be a broken lock and possibly a stain on the floor.

There's a soft tap at the door, and I freeze. It can't be Jimmy. He would just walk in like he did last night. My voice is locked in my throat. It takes effort just to ask, "Who is it?" My voice fights its way through the silence and somehow is heard on the other side of the thick door.

"Alex."

I shove off the couch and over to the front door not too far away, happy to see someone with a friendly face. The door opens quickly and I peek out. When I confirm it's just Alex, I grab him by his forearm and pull him inside, quickly shutting the door behind me.

He stands surprised inside Henri's apartment with his brows drawn up in that thoughtful way of his that makes me want to hug him.

I don't. "Did you see Jimmy? Is he pissed? What did I do?"

Alex opens his mouth and shuts it again. His eyes never meeting my own. He glances down at the floor, his long hair in his face.

"He did say something, didn't he?" I duck down a little, trying to get Alex's eyes, but he turns his head again. "Alex, would you just tell me? What is going on?"

That does get his attention. He looks up at me and whispers, "I'm sorry."

My body goes limp just as blackness closes around my vision. Alex jumps forward, his arms wrapping around me, and then darkness.